


Starfighter: Drabble

by Myshka (eigogawakarimasen)



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eigogawakarimasen/pseuds/Myshka





	1. For Mirax3163

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mirax3163](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirax3163/gifts), [PuzzleSavant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzleSavant/gifts).



„Pass me the damn bottle, myshonok …” Cain lies on his back, his head bedded on his scrunched up jacket, staring up at the plain grey ceiling of the storage room. His vision is blurring at the edges and the floor beneath him seems to sway lazily. It almost feels like he’s drifting. Floating. Fucking comfortable.

When Deimos doesn’t respond, he gets up on his elbows with a sigh, frowning at the smaller fighter sitting next to him – holding the bottle of contraband just out of reach.

“Myshonok, the fuck is wrong with you”, he mutters. “I maybe drunk – but I can still kick your bony little ass if you make me!”

That’s a lie, and they both now it. Cain is too wasted to even get up on his feet, but it doesn’t bother him much.

A smile is tugging at Deimos’ lips. He shakes his head.

Cain blinks. “What?”

The other fighter shakes his head again. More vigorously this time.

It takes Cain a moment until realisation dawns. A low growl escapes his throat. “So, what do you want?”

Deimos’ smile widens. He raises a brow flirtatiously.

Keeler’s been having Abel run extra shifts at the lab lately. Cain only gets to see him during sims or when they have to go out on patrol anymore. No time for a fuck, not even a quick one. No wonder that he’s feeling frustrated beyond belief. So actually, it’s Abel’s fault that Cain’s getting a hard-on from Deimos’ wicked smile alone.

He beckons him closer with his finger. “C’mere …”

Deimos sets the bottle down. He bites his lips, watching Cain intently from underneath his bangs. Eventually, he seems to come to a decision and scrambles onto Cain’s lap, straddling him.

“So, what do you want?” Cain asks again, the corners of his mouth lifting when he feels Deimos already rock-hard against him. “You want to kiss?”

Deimos thinks about it, licks his bottom lip, then shakes his head.

Cain chuckles quietly. His voice sounds thick and slurry when he asks: “Hmmmm … wanna touch me?”

When the smaller fighter nods enthusiastically, Cain grabs his hands and puts them on his chest. “Here?” Slowly he moves Deimos’ palms further down until they rest on his hips. “Or maybe here?”

“No, I know where you want to go.” A deep groan escapes his lips as he rubs the other’s hand over his erection. “Right … hng … there …”

But, again, Deimos shakes his head, even though he can’t deny his more than obvious arousal. His cheeks are burning and his pupils are dilated to the point where the light grey of his eyes is barely visible anymore. He frees his wrists from Cain’s grip and slowly – tantalising slowly – moves his palms down Cain’s sides.

With a silent sigh he leans closer and pushes his hands into Cain’s pants and underneath his buttocks.

 “Aah …” Cain pants heavily, instinctively shoving his hips up to allow Deimos to squeeze and grope his ass more firmly. He arched his back with a strangled moan when he suddenly feels a pressure against his entrance. “Fuck, Myshonok … You … FUCK!”

He almost loses it when Deimos pushes his finger in and curls it up to stroke his prostate from the inside. “Fuck … Ngghh … FUCK! Hnmm … You want to …?”

It’s the closest he’ll ever get to begging for it up the ass, and Deimos knows. The little fighter licks his lips, his eyes are gleaming in the dingy light of the storage room. Still, he shakes his head. “Drunk,” he rasps, a sad smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “You’re gonna regret when you’re sober. Don’t want you to.”

Cain pushes Deimos off of him and scrambles to his feet. “ _Хуй тебе!!”_

He throws him a dirty look and staggers out of the room. Sure as fuck he’s not going to repeat this offer EVER!

“Your loss, myshonok!” Cain mutters under his breath.

He ruffles his bangs with both hands, turns around and starts reeling down the deserted corridor. When he keys the door to his room open, he catches a glimpse of tousled blond hair in the dim light.

“Abel”, he growls with a wicked smile. “Wake up. I’m gonna show you how much I missed you, princess …”


	2. For Heartsung

"This’d better be worth it … First leave in four months, and I’m standing here with you, queuing for - what is this, anyways?"

Deimos just looked at his Navi, pouting with his bottom lip stuck out and quivering slightly, and smiled.

"What-EVER!!" Phobos whined. "I knew, I’d rather taken Porthos up on his offer, to go visit this strip club he’s been talking about the whole GODDAMN time. But … UGH … GIRLS?!?"

The thought of a sparsely clad girl in thigh high tights and with silicone breasts giving Phobos a lap dance made Deimos beam even brighter.

The queue moved further, and finally they reached the door of the huge industrial building.

“You are not gonna tell me, why you dragged me here, are you?”

Smiling, Deimos shook his head, ignoring his Navigator’s annoyed look completely. And when the doors eventually swung open, he was glad he had.

Phobos’ look of utter surprise was priceless.

“How would you possibly KNOW?” he gasped, unbelieving. “I never told anybody …”

Once more, Deimos smiled. Phobos needn’t necessarily know that he knew about his secret obsession, because he’d read about it in his diary … The silent Fighter took his Navigator’s hand and led him to the first exhibit of the twenty-first Marsian Star Trek Collection.


	3. For Puzzlesavant

He wasn’t gonna beg for it.

Not Abel. Not ever.

* * *

"NNNNGHH FUUUCK, princess, you wanna …"

Abel let go of Cain’s cock with an audible  _Plopp_. “Do you want to try those cuffs we got on our last shore leave?” he asks, an excited blush staining his cheeks.

Not exactly what he’d been about to ask. Fuck!With a suppressed sigh, Cain nods. “Yeah, baby,” he says. “Let’s do that.”

* * *

They’re lying on their shared mattresses a couple days later, Cain’s head in Abel’s lap. The blonde’s watching some weird anime on his tablet, absently stroking Cain’s hair.

"Oi Abel, since it’s our Fucking Anniversary today and …"

"Our anniversary?" Abel blinks in utter surprise. "I really hate to break it to you, but we only know each other for … what? … three months. What kind of anniversary are you talking about?"

"Didn’t you listen? I said it’s our FUCK-ING Anniversary. Popped your cherry  _to the day three_ months ago. Isn’t that worth some goddamn celebrating or what?”

A smile tugged at the corners of the Navigator’s lips. “Well, I didn’t know there was such thing as a quarterly …”

"Now you know. And since we’re on a spaceship it’s pretty obvious that I didn’t exactly have much opportunity to get you a present …"

Abel’s smile broadens. “Awww, Cain, you’re too cute. You don’t have to buy me a present, you know. It’s …”

"I am NOT cute. I’m sexy as hell, I’m a good fuck and you’re all about my dick, but don’t you dare to call me cute again!" Cain snarls. Cats are cute. Babys are cute. What the hell is Abel even THINKING? Raking a hand through his hair, he sighs. "Now where were we? Anniversary - check. No present - check. Right. Um … in lieu of a present AND since it’s a Fucking Anniversary I figured I’d give you something personal. So, is there anything we did in the past three months, you’d maybe like to do again? I mean, it can be ANYthing. Literally."

"Ohh …" The Blonde’s eyes are going really wide, when the penny finally drops. " _OHHH_.”

Cain waits with baited breath for Abel to make up his mind. “You know, I really like this one thing you did with your tongue last time,” he says eventually. “And I guess I’d like to see you in those lace panties again.”

Cain fights back the urge to roll his eyes. This is going to be more difficult than anticipated. “Really, princess? Those the most spectacular things you can think of?” he sighs. “I mean, you could  _do_ whatever you want  _to me_. Anything goes.”

Now! That’d been about as sublte as a train wreck. There’s just no fucking way Abel isn’t going to hit on it. No. Fucking. Way.

The grin that’s spreading on Abel’s face confirms his assumption.  _Fucking finally!_

"In that case I’d go for you grabbing some whipped cream from mess again and …"

Cain groans in frustration. “Seriously, Abel, what is wrong with me?”

Abels sits up and blinks rapidly. “Pardon what? What’re you even talking about? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

"Then why the hell don’t you wanna fuck  _me_ again, for fuck’s sake?”

At first, Abel seems utterly and thoroughly dumbfounded. Eventually, a smile spreads on his lips and he skids closer to where Cain’s sitting on the mattress.

"So you want me to do you, yes? That’s what all this is about."

Cain gives him a dark scowl. “Fuck yeah,” he finally mutters. “Goddammit, fuck me already. That a problem for you?”

"No", Abel says, his voice annoyingly chipper. "But you could’ve just told me, you know?" Leaning in for a kiss he adds: "You really didn’t need to beg."

Cains protest is muffled by Abels lips, sealing his mouth with a passionate kiss that makes him forget about anything else in a matter of seconds. He can always point out to Abel that he technically didn’t beg for it.

Because he wouldn’t.

Not Abel. Not ever.


	4. Chapter 4

Growling, Cain slid into the velvet heat. 

The feeling was incredible.

“Nnnhgg … God, Abel, Fuuuck …” 

Finally bottoming out, he sighed in contentment. Warmth surrounded him, enveloped him. He wiggled his hips to find the optimal position and once he got it, his shoulders slumped back, his head hitting the tiles. 

“Fuck, so good …”

Closing his eyes, he stayed still for a moment, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender tinting the air. This was the most relaxed he’d felt for quite a while. 

“You enjoying yourself in there, babe?” Abel called from their hotel bedroom, a broad grin evident in his voice.

“Uh-huu,” Cain muttered, siding deeper into the bath tub, until his head was under water. 

He wouldn’t admit to anyone that Abel was indeed right, and a nice bubble bath beat a hot shower with standard issue soap by a mile .


	5. Chapter 5

This was probably the hardest thing he’d ever done in his whole life.

No, scratch that. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Harder than growing up in the colonies. Harder than fighting ‘Terons and circumnavigate fucking military politics.

It was the singular hardest thing ever. Period.

Originally, he’d planned to ask Keeler in the fancy restaurant he’d taken him out for dinner to. But the place had been fucking packed. The air buzzing with laughter, snippets of conversations and the clinking of cutlery.

So the plain gold ring was still burning a hole in the pockets of his slacks when they left the place about one and a half hour later.

Since it was such a beautiful night, they’d decided to take the long way back to the apartment complex they’d moved in just a couple days ago. Hand in hand, they walked through the nice little park, the wind rustling in the treetops, the moon casting silvery light over lawns and flowerbeds.

Encke might not been the type for sappy romance shit, but even he appreciated the atmosphere of peace and quiet.

When they passed the pond, waterlilies floating on the surface reflecting the night sky laced with stars, he struggled to work up all his courage to finally go through with his plan.

“Keeler, I …” He fell silent when he dug his hand into his pants pocket and didn’t find what he was fumbling around for.

His heart skipped a beat.

The ring.

It was gone.

“Can it be you’re looking for this?”

And by some miracle there was the ring, held between Keeler’s thumb and index finger, shimmering in the moonlight.

Encke swallowed. His mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert back on Earth. “How did you …?”

Keeler smiled. “It seems you lost it on your way to the rest room. Our waiter found it next to our table and gave it to me.”

For a moment there was silence. Encke’s heart was pounding like mad.

“Keeler, I … You know … I …”

“My answer is yes,” Keeler said, smiling even wider. “When it comes to you my answer will always be yes.”

They kissed, and Encke thought, this was probably the best thing he’d ever done in his life.

No, scratch that. It was the best thing he’d ever done.

The singular best thing ever.

Period.


End file.
